Snowdrops in Spring
by xKitti
Summary: A seasonal look at Komaeda's condition as it all goes downhill. AU-ish.


They were past the stage with the awkward touches and the confused feelings. They could sit on a bed and hold hands, kiss, even have sex without having anything else on their minds but each other. Slowly, Hinata made it a point that he would be working on Komaeda's issues. Some days he would see improvement, like Komaeda would only have trash talked himself twice when they would go out to eat. To most people it wouldn't seem like much of an improvement but to Hinata, it made all the difference in the world. Komaeda's attitude was something they could work on, with practice and determination; it could change.

But what couldn't be changed, was his health. No matter how much rest, how many greens and proteins Komaeda digested it was all the same. He would still be plagued by the illness that was soon to kill him. Some days, Hinata would be able to walk with him to the park, squeeze his hand tightly and feel the warmth radiate from his own digits, up his arm and directly to his heart. But on others, the teen could barely leave their shared bed. Chest rattling with the harshest of coughs, blood would fall yet again to the freshly made bedsheets. Hinata didn't mind having to wash them again. They could be fixed. They could be changed. (but) Komaeda could not.

The summer heat was rough on both of their backs but combined they still had the strength to take walks every now and then. Hinata was adamant about his lover keeping up his strength if at all possible. On these walks, Komaeda would muse quietly about owning a dog or another animal to take with them, but Hinata complained of how much work it would be. Komaeda ended up agreeing with whatever Hinata had to say on the matter. He hadn't been eating much, which made him a little whoosy but Komaeda just blamed the heat. Nobody wants to eat when it's like a million degrees outside anyway.

Fall came quickly soon after, and the two would spend most of their time indoors now. It was a particularly rainy few months and the thunderstorms drove Komaeda to take shelter under the covers. Hinata would smile faintly at the way he would burrito himself up and jump every time the loud banging and clanging would reach his ears. It wasn't that he enjoyed the other's anguish, it was just how cute he happened to look. Eventually Hinata would take the trembling man into his arms and whisper soothing words. Komeada especially liked it when Hinata would stroke his hair, that was his second favourite thing. His first being Hinata's lips pressed so delicately against his own.

When winter came and the snow had begun to fall, Komaeda required more blankets. Late at night his body would be overcome with shakes, his wobbly fingers gripping weakly to arms. Hinata would try to cease his movements but soon grew to ignore them. There was nothing left he could do. Soon the shudders where accompanied by trips to the bathroom where he would empty what little contents laid in the pit of his stomach. Soon all that was left was left was a dark, maroon liquid that made Hinata's chest hurt. He was in denial.

By the time spring came, Komaeda was sleeping more and more. Sometimes, the only time he would rise out of bed was to puke or use the restroom. The latter becoming less and less common. Hinata urged him to eat and stay hydrated, feeding him little things and forcing him to swallow pill after pill, his panic slowly rising. He began spiking high fevers, his face becoming paler and paler till Hinata wasn't sure if he could get any more white.

At night, Hinata would sit out on the porch by his lonesome. That was the only time he could let loose. The only time he could bring himself to cry. He didn't want Komaeda to see him like this, to see him so upset. He would surely put himself down and remark that he shouldn't be crying over such a useless excuse for a human being. All he wanted was to see Komaeda smile again. Even if for just a moment, it could make him forget. Forget that the love of of his life was dying.

The first flowers of spring were beginning to bloom and the majority of the snow had melted by now. Komaeda had asked him to carry him outside, that it had been so long since he had some fresh air. So now they both sat on the warm grass, Komaeda's head in his lap. Hinata would work on smoothing out the tangles that matted his white locks while Komaeda simply hummed, enjoying what little of the contact he could actually feel. Today was one of his better days.

"Thank you... Hinata-kun for dragging my worthless body out here," he strained, taking a shaky breath in.

"Stop that, I wanted to do this. Just relax. The cool breeze feels nice, doesn't it?" Hinata whispered, staring off to gander at the greenery that was just beginning to flourish.

"Hinata-kun look! It's a snowdrop..." Komaeda pointed out, extending a weak finger outwards to direct his attention. "They're said to represent the start of spring... But most of all, hope. That's why...they're my favourite."

Taking initiative, Hinata scooted carefully across the ground and reached out to snatch it up. This caused an unexpected reaction from the head on his lap.

"A-Ahhh! Hinata-kun you're... n-not supposed to pick them! Bringing th-them inside... is considered un...unlucky!" He then broke out into another fit of coughs. Thankfully it was short lived.

Hinata gave a faint smile placed the flower in his now bloodied hands. "As long as we don't go inside, it won't be a problem then right?"

Komaeda made a small noise with in the back of his throat and loosened up, narrowing his eyes like a cat would when looking at something it loved so much.

"..Th...ank you Hinata-kun... It's... so beautiful. I'm happy..."

His pale eyes then slowly shut completely, a serene look set about his features. Hinata assumed he was merely taking a nap as he continued to stroke at his rough hair but was concerned by a rather loud, long sigh. Hinata's stomach flipped as he started whispering Komaeda's name. The whisper turned into a panicked shout, followed by many more bellows all the while he shook Komaeda's limp body. There was no answer. The smile that once sat at his lips, the warmth in his hands, the glow in his eyes. Gone. In the blink of an eye, the being he cherished most had departed.

Hinata's screams slowly became less and less audible, his voice trembling and his eyes hazy. His hands slowly stopped shaking him and instead shook all by themselves. Hot tears spilled down his cheeks; the stream flowing all the way down his chin and landing right on Komaeda's pale face. He was suddenly so cold. Empty. Dead. He took the flower and weaved it carefully into Komaeda's hair before rising to his feet, holding his scrawny frame carefully. The smell of outside was becoming sickening. As he made his way towards their home he stopped, recalling Komaeda's words. He then shook his head and gave a sad smile, whispering to no one in particular:

"...How much more unlucky can I get?"


End file.
